


From Two to Three

by Blare



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Adoption, Comfort, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hugs, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Canon, Soft Sakusa Kiyoomi, Worried Atsumu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-17 17:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29475732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blare/pseuds/Blare
Summary: “That’s not what the instructions say.”Kiyoomi holds up the instruction booklet and tilts it horizontally so that the diagram is oriented in the same direction as the bed that Atsumu is assembling. Or at least he tried to orientate it in the same direction.Atsumu goes through pre-adoption worries as he attempts to build a bed, but Kiyoomi is there to assure him that everything will turn out fine.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 79
Collections: SakuAtsu Fluff Week 2021





	From Two to Three

**Author's Note:**

> For #SakuAtsuFluffWeek2021  
> Day 8: Parenthood + "That's not what the instructions say"

“That’s not what the instructions say.”

Kiyoomi holds up the instruction booklet and tilts it horizontally so that the diagram is oriented in the same direction as the bed that Atsumu is assembling. Or at least he tried to orientate it in the same direction. He's pretty certain that the legs were supposed to go in the opposite way and the headboard was supposed to be screwed onto the rails and not the other way around. Kiyoomi's not exactly sure how Atsumu got the nails to even fit in its current position.

Atsumu scowls. “Well then the instructions are wrong,” he snaps. He tosses the hammer to the side before flopping down on the floor and laying on his back with his arms and legs sprawled out. Kiyoomi rolls his eyes at his husband’s dramatic antics. “I can feel yer eyes rollin’, Omi.”

“That just means you know you’re being childish,” Kiyoomi smirks. “I wouldn’t be rolling my eyes otherwise.” He dodges the screwdriver that’s flung haphazardly in his direction. It clangs to the floor harmlessly. “See, childish.”

To be fair though, Kiyoomi is no better at making heads or tails of these instructions. He went to college for a business degree, not engineering. For some reason, the manufactures thought that eliminating the words would be a good idea, leaving their customers to decipher the diagrams. However, in his defense, he had wanted to just buy a preassembled bed, but it was Atsumu that was determined to build one.

Atsumu huffs but doesn’t say anything. Instead, he crosses his arms and stares at the ceiling. The silence shifts from watching a pouting puppy to something heavier. Kiyoomi sighs and discards the instruction book onto what will be the bedside table once there is a bed to put the table beside. He sits down on the floor and lies down next to Atsumu, staring at the same blank white ceiling. Atsumu turns his body towards him. “I thought ya hated bein’ on the ground,” he says.

“It’s fine. We just cleaned,” Kiyoomi replies dismissively. He suspects, if things go well, he’s going to have to get used to being on the floor. It’s a good thing that he insisted on hardwood over carpet when they were apartment hunting. Kiyoomi turns to lay on his left so that he can face Atsumu. He brings his hand up to cusp his husband’s cheek. Atsumu flushes slightly like he does every time Kiyoomi initiates physical touch outside of the bedroom. Seeing his husband blush never gets old. “What’s wrong, Atsumu?” Kiyoomi asks.

“It’s nothin’” Atsumu mummers.

“Even if it’s nothing, I hope you can still tell me if you want to,” Kiyoomi replies as he brings his hand down to Atsumu’s shoulder and trails down his arm until he reaches his hand. Then, he presses their palms against each other before lacing their fingers together. Kiyoomi squeezes gently and Atsumu squeezes back.

On the surface, they seem quite different. Atsumu is loud, inviting people into his warmth, while Kiyoomi is quiet, preferring to maintain his personal bubble. However, when everything is stripped bare, Kiyoomi sees the anxieties that bubble beneath the surface that parallel his own. So, Kiyoomi waits, running his thumb on Atsumu’s knuckle as Atsumu gathers his thoughts that Kiyoomi can tell are running rapidly behind his dark honey-colored eyes. He thinks he can lie like this indefinitely, waiting until Atsumu finds the right words he wants to say. It’s a trust that he’s taken so very long to earn, but now, he’s privy to his husband’s vulnerability, a side of him few rarely get to see.

“Maybe this is a sign that I’m not meant to be a dad,” Atsumu says finally.

His confession catches Kiyoomi off guard. He’s seen the way Atsumu hangs out with Meian’s kid during the Jackals’ family events. He sets the volleyball to Meian Jr. just right so that when he spikes it down, the six-year-old’s eyes glow with excitement. He’s seen the way Atsumu plays with Bokuto’s toddler when Bokuto drops her off to babysit when he and Akaashi – now also a Bokuto himself – want a quiet afternoon for once. He gives her piggyback rides and, to Kiyoomi’s horror, carefully tosses her into the air as she squeals with delight. He’s seen the way Atsumu grins when he cradles Osamu’s son for the first time. His gentle sways put the baby to sleep when even when his twin can’t.

It’s absurd to think that Atsumu will be anything but a great dad. However, their own adoption process has been a hard one. It’s been two years of bad interviews, failed matches, and false starts. When Kiyoomi sees the way Atsumu cries tears of pure elation when they received the last phone call from Ito, their caseworker, he knows it’s meant to be. They’ve been approved of overnight visits for the Aiko, the four-year-old girl that they’ve spent the last two and half months getting to know. It isn’t a final decision yet, but they’re almost there.

If anyone should have concerns about parenthood, it should be Kiyoomi. But whenever he thinks of Atsumu making breakfast on a lazy Sunday morning for a family of three, walks to the park with an additional human holding both their hands, and TV nights watching the kid cartoons that he secretly enjoys, all those apprehensions disappear. They’ve wanted to grow their family for the longest time and Kiyoomi, never the one to leave things unfinished, is determined to see this through.

Kiyoomi feels his throat thicken, unsure how to put all his thoughts into words to convince Atsumu that he’s going to be an incredible parent. There are just too many things to say. Atsumu must take his lack of an answer in the wrong way because he moves to try to untangle their fingers in order to raise his arm up and hide his face. Kiyoomi doesn’t let him and squeezes tighter as a reassurance. He settles for telling Atsumu the truth. “You’re going to be an amazing father.”

Atsumu stares at him with a dazed look mixed with awe and disbelief. It breaks Kiyoomi’s heart just a little. He takes the opportunity to kiss him on his forehead and dig deeper at what’s exactly troubling his partner’s mind. “Can you tell me what brought this on?” he murmurs against his skin.

“I dunno,” Atsumu confesses. “I’ve just been thinkin’ ya know. What if Ito comes tomorrow and I haven’t even finished the bed? Or worse, what if the bed breaks when she comes? We haven’t even decorated her room yet. What if she thinks our apartment isn’t good enough to raise a kid in? What if we forgot to childproof something?”

“Are you doubting my childproofing skills,” Kiyoomi teases, leaning back so that he can see Atsumu’s face again.

“No, but that’s totally not the point, Omi,” Atsumu pouts and the air around them seems a little lighter. It must be just some last-minute nerves then that are bothering him. “Quit teasin’ me. These are serious concerns.”

Kiyoomi smiles, unable to help himself. Atsumu’s pout is adorable. “You’re right,” he agrees. “But you don’t have to worry about those things. The room is plain because we want Aiko to be able to decorate it when she comes. She already knows that and is excited to pick out her first stuffed animal and the wallpaper, remember? Ito-san has been to our apartment many times and has checked and approved of everything. And the bed isn’t going to break. Your brother’s kid has been sleeping on the same kind of bed for the last three years. He swore by it when we bought it.”

“You haven’t said anything ‘bout the point about not being able to make the bed,” Atsumu points out.

Kiyoomi raises his eyebrows. “Osamu was able to assemble the bed. Are you saying you’re unable to?” he challenges, tapping into his secret weapon whenever he wants Atsumu to do something – bring up Osamu and let the twin’s competitive spirit kick in.

“Of course I can,” Atsumu scowls, falling for the bait, hook, line, and sinker.

“See, there’s nothing to worry about then,” Kiyoomi smirks. His lips curl down into a frown when Atsumu doesn’t return his smile. Maybe it isn’t just the jitters. “Is there something else bothering you?”

Atsumu’s eyes flicker over, avoiding Kiyoomi’s gaze even though they’re centimeters apart. In a small voice that makes Kiyoomi’s heart ache, he whispers. “What if this fails again? We’re so close Omi, but what if Aiko stays over and decides she doesn’t like it here? What if she doesn’t like what I cook her? Oh god, I’m gonna be a terrible dad. What if I’m too loud and scare her away? What if I get frustrated and yell at her? I dunno anything ‘bout girls. What if she starts askin’ questions and I can’t answer them? Oh my god, she’s had a ma before. What if she’s upset isn’t gonna have a ma again?”

Once Atsumu’s thoughts start spilling, it’s hard to get them to stop. On most days, it’s random tangents about whatever has caught his attention. Kiyoomi finds those enduring and lets him ramble until it’s out of his system. On rarer days, it’s these intrusive thoughts that are laid bare in front of Kiyoomi.

“What if – ” Kiyoomi cuts him off with a gentle kiss, this time going for the lips. It’s quick and chaste, but it’s enough to get Atsumu’s thoughts to stand still and allow Kiyoomi to interject before they start running again.

“I’m worried too,” Kiyoomi admits, bearing open his own feelings. He rushes to continue before Atsumu can draw the wrong conclusions. “But I’m not worried about how you’re going to do.” He kisses Atsumu again, still sweet and short. “It’s the only thing I’ve never worried about.”

“Kiyoomi,” Atsumu breathes, his eyes watering slightly.

Kiyoomi closes the gap between their bodies. He brings his arms around Atsumu’s broad back and lets his husband rest his head against his chest. More often than not, it’s Kiyoomi that buries himself within Atsumu’s warm embrace, but at times like this, he’s grateful for the extra few centimeters that allow him to wrap his whole body around his partner’s frame.

“Ito-san isn’t here to give us false hope. You know that she’s been rooting for us and thinks we’re a good match,” Kiyoomi says. “I’m not saying it’s going to be easy or that we aren’t going to make mistakes, but Atsumu, you love this little girl. Whatever happens, we’re going to get through it together. Mother or not, Aiko’s going to have two parents that love her very much. And if we can’t do it ourselves, we have our friends and family to rely on. Just because we aren’t a traditional family doesn’t mean we’re any less of a family.”

“When did ya become such a sap?” Atsumu sniffles into his shirt.

“Someone has to be the logical one in this relationship.” Kiyoomi smiles as he feels Atsumu’s body relax further into his.

“Sap,” Atsumu repeats and Kiyoomi resists the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he just gazes at the top of Atsumu’s head fondly. They lie like that for a few more minutes before Atsumu lifts his head and stares at Kiyoomi with a slight sulk again.

“What?” Kiyoomi asks.

“I still gotta build the freakin’ bed.”

Kiyoomi laughs. “Do you want to know a secret?”

Atsumu looks at him suspiciously. “What?”

“Rintaro told me that Aran had to help them assemble the bed,” Kiyoomi replies with mirth dancing in his eyes. It had taken promises of future babysitting to get Kiyoomi to swear that he wouldn’t tell Atsumu after he accidentally stumbled upon Aran’s toolkit one of their monthly family dinners. Still, he figures spilling this secret is worth it if it means the bed will actually be built in a structurally sound way. Osamu and Rintaro owe them babysitting hours anyway.

It takes Atsumu a second to process before he shoots up from the floor and scrambles for his phone. “That scrub!” he yells. “He bragged about that bed for a whole week.”

Kiyoomi lifts himself from the floor and into a sitting position. He watches in amusement as Atsumu hops around to avoid all the different wooden planks before grabbing his phone. After a raucous call to Osamu, Atsumu rings up Aran, and the spiker’s face appears on the screen.

“Atsumu, Kiyoomi,” Aran greats. When he sees the wooden planks on the floor behind them, he lets out a chuckle. “I see Osamu’s secret is out of the bag.”

“Ya gotta help me, Aran,” Atsumu wails. “Aiko is comin’ tomorrow to stay the night.”

“I can be there within the hour,” Aran offers, his tone both exasperated and amused. He’s had almost two decades of experience dealing with the twin’s antics after all.

Forty minutes later, Aran shows up with takeout for three and his toolkit.

When Aiko arrives the next day, she immediately leaps into Atsumu’s waiting arms. He picks her up and she giggles loudly as he spins her around. Kiyoomi watches them with a small smile on his face and a warm feeling in his chest. Atsumu’s going to be a great dad. When Atsumu sets her on the ground again, she pulls out a small bottle of hand sanitizer from her little pouch, squirts some in her hand, and shyly offers it to Kiyoomi, he knows that this is it. He lets her squeeze some into his hands. Aiko waits until he’s finished rubbing his palms together before taking his hand and dragging him to the living room. Atsumu beams as he joins them.

\---

The bed does end up breaking. The brand is a reputable one, meant to withstand all the shenanigans that a kid, its target demographic, could inflict. However, while it might have been able to take the weight of a five-year-old kid jumping on it, it doesn’t stand a chance against a five-year-old kid and her 80-kilo dad both bouncing on it. In all honestly, Kiyoomi’s actually quite surprised it’s taken that long for it to break. It’s not the first time Atsumu and Aiko have tested the structural integrity of the bed, playing whatever sort of game they’ve made up. Aran refuses to help them build another one and after scolding the two about the correct way to treat furniture, Kiyoomi goes online purchases the prebuilt bed that he originally suggested. Later that night, Aiko takes the opportunity created by the two-day shipping and snuggles between her two dads. Kiyoomi smiles as he feels Atsumu’s arm wrap around the two of them as they drift off to sleep. Atsumu, Aiko, and Kiyoomi. It’s going to be the three of them now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for indulging me in my first adventure into writing in a while.


End file.
